Old Problems, New Love
by HarryPotterTwin
Summary: Widower John Marston has one mission in life; to eliminate his old friends in an attempt to get back to his young son. After much heartache, can he find love in the bowels of terror, or will he be destined to be alone?
1. Chapter 1

**Old Problems, New Love**

**Chapter 1**

**Summary**- _Widower John Marston has one mission in life; to eliminate his old friends in an attempt to get back to his young son. After much heartache, can he find love in the bowels of terror, or will he be destined to be alone?_

**Disclaimer**- I DO NOT own any of the characters used in this story, I just like to play around with them.

"_Mr Marston, I'm sorry. I'm afraid Abigail didn't make it." The doc muttered, running his pale hand through his grey hair, streaking it red with blood. _

"_A-and the baby?" The crest-fallen man asked, his young but scarred face turning into one of pure heartache. He wanted to push past the old man, but restrained himself because of the five year old boy with his mother's deep brown eyes and messy hair that was hiding behind him. _

_The doc sighed, patting The elder of the Marston's on the shoulder. _

"_I'm sorry, son." He muttered, picking up his case from the doorway and heading over to the five-year-old. "Go in and say goodbye. I'll look after your boy."_

_He nodded in response, his hands shaking and tears threatening to fall. He reached for the doorknob, turned it and stepped in the room. Blood soaked the sheets that were covering his wife's pale form. At the foot of the bed, a small bundle laid, completely still. _

His eyes bolted open, rousing him from his slumber. A sudden pain in his side stopped him from moving and he brought his hand up to cover his eyes. His wedding band glinted in the light, making him smile. After the death of his wife two years prior, he had never taken it off. Then, he took in his surroundings.

He was on a rickety bed in a wooden cabin, by the looks of it, that held all of the simple amenities. A cooker sat along one wall, a table and chair next to it and a coal burner sat at the bottom of the bed.

"_Where the hell am I?" _He asked himself, wincing when the door opened, the light blinding him momentarily.

"Well you're alive." A soft, feminine voice observed. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision of the small galaxy that had settled there. He stared right up at the ceiling, moving his hands in front of his face and trying to get them into focus.

"So it would seem." He laughed, wincing again at the sudden pain in his ribs. He looked over to his saviour and was greeted with a young woman, probably only a few years younger than him with dirty blond hair that was pulled back into a messy bun and the bluest eyes he had ever laid eyes on. Her face was lightly sunburnt and her clothes were dirty, indicating that she had been working out in the sun for a long time.

"So, how do you feel?" She asked, walking further in and closing the door behind her. The man lowered his hands and rested them on his chest, looking over at her with curious eyes.

"I don't know the polite word for it." He answered, chuckling lightly.

"I do." She said shortly, resting her hands on her hips and giving him a scolding look, her eyebrow slightly raised. He was reminded very much of Abigail, when he would take Jack out on a hunting trip without telling her, or when he would make a joke about her cooking. "'Stupid' is the word we use around here. What were you doing?"

"I was…" He groaned, sitting up tentatively, sucking in a breath at the pain in his side. He faced her, setting his feet on the creaky, wooden floor. "I was doing something stupid." He admitted, letting out a low chuckle.

"Well, you'll be okay." She soothed, rolling her eyes. "Once you didn't die the doctor said you'd be fine. He got the bullets out a couple of days ago."

"Good." He commented, nodding to her in thanks.

"It cost us $15." She continued, looking at him as though he was a naughty child. Guilt flooded through him like a waterfall.

"I'm sorry, madam." He apologised, mentally cursing himself. "Ya should've left me there to die."

"Did you want to die? I mean, was that it?" She asked, quick as a flash. "Was that why you went straight out to Fort Mercer and picked a fight with the worst bandit in the county? To die? Mr. err…?"

He stood, running his hands through his thin, brown hair and stretching.

"Mr. Marston. John Marston." He finished for her, lowering himself back down to sit on the bed.

"Bonnie Macfarlane." She introduced, smiling at him. "_Miss_ Bonnie Macfarlane."

"Well, you may be right, Miss Macfarlane." He assured, wiping his hands on his pants. "I don't know."

"So, what were you doing?"

"Was trying to give Mr. Williamson a chance. For old times' sake."

Her eyebrows retreated into her hair and her face turned into one of shock.

"You know Bill Williamson?" She almost gasped, Cocking her head to the side.

"Knew him, long time ago."

"Well, what was he like?"

"Dumb." He said simply, standing once again.

"Just like you." She joked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Thank you miss." John said sarcastically, reaching up to tip his hat and feeling his fingers enclose around thin air. She chuckled, practically seeing the cogs turning in his brain. "Seen my hat?"

"I have." She said, raising her hand to point at the cooker. He made his way over and shoved the garment on as well as his holster. "And ah,what will you do now?"

"Now I'm going to take my time and go after him the less kind way." He answered, joining Bonnie by the door.

"Well, that sounds very fun, Mr. Marston." She commented, smiling up at him. "Quite heroic, just like in those penny dreadfuls my brother used to read. Meanwhile, if you'll excuse me, I've got a ranch to run." She said, opening the door and making her way out.

"Of course," She said, turning back to John, who was now leaning on the door frame, looking at her with a small smile on his face. "If you're feeling better, why not take a ride with me later and help me patrol the perimeter. You can earn back some of that money we wasted on doctor's bills."

"Of course." He nodded, stretching his side once again. "And thank you, for saving my life, I mean."

"Next time, Mr. Marston, I strongly recommend you don't try to lose it so earnestly." She smirked as she walked away. Somehow, John was unable to tear his eyes away from her retreating form.

"I'll bear that in mind." He muttered, watching her disappear behind the general store.

**A/N**- Okay guys, my first RDR fic! How did I do? Did I do okay? It is meant to be an AU, as to the fact of Abigail being dead, and Jack being seven instead of sixteen. Please R&R? HPTwin OUT!


	2. Chapter 2

**Old Love New Problems**

**Chapter 2**

Safe to say, over the next few days, John and Bonnie managed to build up the foundations of a beautiful friendship. From driving her into Armadillo to racing her around the ranch, he was there.

This is what led him to her house that morning. She had asked him to help with simple tasks around the ranch to pay off the medical bills that he owed her. On this particular morning, she was perched on her front porch, overlooking the chickens in the road when John had approached her, looking better than he had the last time he saw her. He had combed his hair, washed his shirt and tried to shave as best he could.

"Mr. Marston. I've been hearing about your plans." She greeted, standing from her chair and leaning on the barrier that surrounded the porch.

"Have you, Miss MacFarlane?" He replied, chuckling slightly.

"Yes, from Leigh Johnson. To settle here and build a life for yourself." She answered, gesturing randomly as if to prove a point.

"I'm afraid those aren't my plans. You see, I already have a life. Well, I had one, and I'm trying to reclaim it. Or maybe what you could say is that I had two, and I'm trying to end one so the other can survive." He rambled, struggling to explain what was happening. Truthfully even he had no idea what was going on with his life.

"You do so love to talk in riddles, Mr. Marston. Do you do that, I wonder as a substitute for having anything interesting to say?" Bonnie shot, smiling up at him through those oh-so-beautiful blue orbs.

"Probably, Miss MacFarlane."

"Ugh, call me Bonnie, you fool. Call me Bonnie." She groaned, throwing up her hands in frustration and falling back down in her chair.

John seemed to think over what he could say to her. Would she be angry about him keeping his past from her? Would she view him differently? Oh, to hell with it. She had to know!

"Miss Macfarlane, I'm a widower. I have a son. I had a daughter but she was stillborn." He admitted, leaning against the railing and looking out into the ranch, watching two children play with their dog in the road. "Years before that I rode in a gang. We robbed trains, banks, held people ransom. We killed people we didn't like. Bill Williamson was in that gang. Now, if I don't capture my former brother in arms, great harm will befall my seven-year-old son. Now, I don't suppose any of this is very interesting to you but, I hope it explains why I wasn't so eager to talk about it."

"No, I do understand. I had no idea. You poor man." He heard her say. Somehow, her voice seemed to be getting closer, until she finally stood next to him, resting her elbows on the railing.

"Even in this new country, memories don't really fade." He continued, looking down at her. "My father was an illiterate Scot, born on the boat into New York. He never saw his homeland, but to hear him talk about it, you would imagine he only ever ate haggis and wore a kilt. And he hated the English for what they had done to his great-grandparents he'd never met. People don't forget. Nothing gets forgiven."

"That's true," She agreed, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Especially when it comes to money. And you know even now, after all his labours; my father's debts are still terrible. I worry every day about us losing the ranch. It would kill him."

"My father died when I was 8 years old." John elaborated, feeling her head rest against his shoulder. "His eyes were...well, let's just say he was blinded in a bar fight south of Chicago. My mother died during childbirth. She was a prostitute and he was her, well I don't know what he was. Then I was sent off to an orphanage and ran away and fell in with a gang."

"My word, what a difficult life you've lived." She sighed. Her voice held what John would later describe as true sympathy.

"The leader of the gang taught me how to read. Taught me how to see all that was good in the world. He was a great man in a way." He explained, trying to shed at least some light on the subject. After all, he didn't want to upset her. Hell no! He would die before that happened.

"But you still _killed_ people?"

He grimaced, hearing the shocked and somewhat disbelieving tone of her voice. Her hand didn't move though, staying firmly on his arm, so that was a start.

"Sure, and I've suffered for it. And that's the life I left, or tried to leave." He sighed, running his hand over his face in frustration. "Ah, I've said too much, Bonnie. I'm an uneducated killer sent here to do all I can do well, kill a man in cold blood so that another man may do his part to cut crime in an area, and a rich man can be elected governor on the back of these promises." He agreed, nodding his head and looking back down at her.

"Civilization is a truly beautiful thing, Mr. Marston." She laughed, moving her head and looking up at him. "Listen, can you help me?"

"Well, I can try. What do you need? Money?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders, but knowing deep down that he would do anything in his power for her.

"_Jesus, John! What's wrong with you?!"_ He mentally scolded himself. _"Abigail's barely been gone for two years! Now is definitely not the time! Besides, the MacFarlane's are good people; too good for the likes of you!"_

"No. Nothing so complicated..." She responded, snapping him from his reverie and staying completely unaware of his inward battle. "I need an extra hand to take the herd out to pasture."

"Sure, point me in the right direction." He chuckled, shaking his head as if he were trying to rid himself of these thoughts. He saw her raise her hand and point in the direction of the jail. He copied her, kicking off with his foot and making his way to his awaiting horse.

**A Week Later**

He honestly had no idea what had led to this point, sitting around a campfire with a cold drink in his hand and Bonnie MacFarlane sitting next to him. Amos sat on his other side, plucking away at his guitar and softly singing along to whatever tune he was playing.

After rescuing the livestock and horses from the burning barn, everyone had gathered in the cooking area and insisted upon celebrating their success. Bonnie had been dragged from the confines of her home, leaving her father to sleep the days stress off.

"Come on, Mr. Marston!" Bonnie chuckled as Amos started playing a rather jolly tune. Other coupled stood, embracing one another and prancing around the fire. "Time to see if a city-man like yourself can dance."

"Oh no, Miss MacFarlane!" He chuckled, holding his hands up in a mock surrender. "I ain't no dancer."

"Funny…" She smiled, still keeping her slender hand outstretched in his direction. "Neither am I."

They had a grand time, prancing around in one another's arms and laughing at their own inability to coordinate their dancing. Eventually, under the influence of a romantic song and the feeling of holding the woman he loved, their lips met in a soft and tender kiss.

He walked her back to the house about an hour later, kissing her goodnight with a promise to return the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Old Problems, New Love**

**Chapter 3**

**A/N- ****Okay guys, slight warning: Huge amounts of FLUFF coming your way!**

"Move out of my way, Bonnie!"

"No!" Bonnie cried, trying to stop her father by running backward in-front of him with her hands outstretched to his chest. "Daddy, you've got to calm down!"

"Why the hell would I want to do that?!" Drew bellowed, practically bounding across the ranch to get to our John's cabin. "He thinks he can just walk in here and take you away?! Not on my watch!"

"Daddy, it wasn't like that!" Bonnie cried once again, knowing full well how bad her father's temper was once he'd lost it. It was bad enough that he was nearly a foot taller than John, never mind his strength. "I'm not going anywhere!"

"Yeah?!" He shouted, now practically hysterical. "I really should hope not, once I'm done with the pair of you!"

"Oh, come on!" She huffed, placing her hands on her father's chest and stopping abruptly. "I'm 27, dad. It's not like I'm the youngest girl ever to fall in love!"

"With a widowed outlaw, you are!" He snarled, brushing her off and charging over to the man in question's cabin. He hammered on the door and opened it, shocked to see John stood over his was basin, his face covered in white foam and a razor in his hand.

"Ah, Mr. MacFarlane!" He greeted, smiling happily at the sight of the older man. Unfortunately, he didn't register the rage in his eyes as he dropped the razor in the basin and dried his hands. "What a pleasant surprise! I was going to come up and see you once I was done here!"

"I bet you were." Drew growled, his moustache bristling as he brought himself to his full height. Bonnie launched herself through the front door, stopping short when she saw the two men she cared about most in the world.

"Hello, John…" She muttered, turning red and hiding her hands behind her back in embarrassment.

"Hello Bonnie." He acknowledged, flashing her his damned lop-sided smile that made her heart flutter. "How are you this morning? Sleep well?"

"Better than I have in a long time." She assured, smiling back at him, her awkwardness long forgotten by his mere presence.

"As heart-warming as this is, I don't suppose your father wants to simply say 'good morning'." John laughed, putting down his towel and turning to Drew, who by this time was almost growling.

"You're damn right I ain't." He snarled, glaring at the younger man. "I heard about last night… you and Bonnie… you ain't getting' away with robbin' my daughter of her innocence out of marriage. You understand?"

"Whoa! Daddy, is that what this is all about?" Bonnie asked, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. This only angered Drew more. "We _kissed_, Daddy. Nothin' more. So, you can forget about givin' John the entire _'protective father'_ spiel."

"Nothin' more?" He asked, somehow struggling to accept the fact that his daughter hadn't lost her virginity before she was married. "Are you sure?"

"Yes sir." Bonnie replied, laughing when her father took a few moments to think things over. Eventually, he seemed to gain control of his brain once again.

"What are your intentions with her, Mr. Marston?" Drew asked, blinking furiously when Bonnie walked over to John and gripped his hand in hers.

"I…" John gulped, wishing he could have somehow put this conversation off until it was just the two of them alone. "I love your daughter, sir. Very much. And… and I intend to marry her as soon as she wishes. If she'll have me, that is."

Bonnie smiled and kissed his cheek, beaming with happiness. He took that as a yes and felt himself relax.

"Well, we'd better get that church booked as soon as possible." Drew said after processing the new information. This man had been in their lives for just three months, but he saw the way he stared at her. Such love… such devotion. He could tell that there was no-one else. For _either_ of them. "But I won't have you taking my daughter too far away. You hear me?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." He smiled, grunting as he felt his anger leave him suddenly. "I'll… I'll just leave you two alone, then."

And with that he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

"Oh my gosh, John!" Bonnie exclaimed, leaning up and hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry about him! He just heard from someone this morning and he wouldn't stop!"

"It's fine, Bonnie." He chuckled, hugging her back. "So, what do you say? Will you do me the honour of becoming Mrs. Marston?"

"Of course, Mr. Marston." She replied, kissing his cheek playfully. "It would be my pleasure."

**Two Weeks Later**

News quickly spread of the betrothal and congratulations were soon upon the young couple. Drew quickly wrote the announcement and it was published in the local newspaper.

One morning a few weeks after the engagement, John made his way to the Marshall's office in armadillo and was shocked to hear bellowing coming from inside. He opened the door and stepped inside, only to be practically pounced on by Mr. Macfarlane.

"Where is she, Marston?" He growled, making the younger man raise his hands in a show of surrender and take a step back.

"Who?"

"Who?" He asked disbelievingly, his voice rising once again. "My daughter, you fucking scum. Where's Bonnie?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since yesterday morning… the meeting at the church for the wedding." He said quickly, lowering his arms and looking between the two other men for some kind of explanation. "Why?"

"Why?!" Drew asked, completely out of his mind. "Because she hasn't been seen since yesterday afternoon." He turned to Leigh Johnson who was sitting on his desk. "I don't think I can cope. If I lose another child—"

John felt his world start to fall beneath him. He collapsed into the nearest chair and allowed the conversation to move on without him. This was why he vowed to himself never to fall in love again. Sure, Bonnie hadn't died of childbirth. But she was gone. The only person he had other than jack was gone.

"Now Drew, nobody's lost anything yet. I'm sure she's fine-" Marshal soothed, only to be cut off by a booming voice from outside. Even John was brought back to his senses.

"Oh, Mister Marshal... Mr. Marshal... Come out, come out, wherever you are."

"Who the hell is that?" The Marshall muttered as he walked outside. John and Drew followed him and stopped at the sight. A man with long, curly hair sat on the back of his horse, smiling evilly and glaring at the three men.

"Even better. Good day, Mr. MacFarlane… Mr. Marston." He greeted, trying to keep his horse steady.

"Get down from that horse, boy, or I'll shoot." Leigh threatened, resting his hand on his holster and making as if to square up to him.

"I wouldn't recommend that, mister. Not if Drew MacFarlane wants to see his Bonnie back in one piece." He threatened, turning his gaze to Drew. "Hey, Mr. MacFarlane, it's a nice girl you got there."

"Get down from there!" He bellowed back, bristling at the very notion of this man being anywhere near his daughter.

"Y'know." He continued, almost as if he had never heard him. "Part of me's got to thinkin' I should just marry her myself. Give her a baby and that."

John brought his gun out and aimed for the man, anger flooding through his veins.

"You lay one fucking finger on her and you're dead." He growled, ready to pounce at any second. Drew's hand stopped him from moving in for the kill, laying on his shoulder.

"What do you want?" The Marshal asked,

"That's better." He sneered. "I want Norman Deek. I want him set free. Then you get your daughter back, mister."

"We don't do deals with outlaws, boy."

"Yeah you do! Let's not waste each other's time pretending otherwise." He interrupted, trying to keep his horse in place. "government themselves ain't much more than a bunch of crooks. This is the land of opportunity, mister, and I'm giving you the opportunity to get your daughter back before fifteen friends of mine take out all their anger and their loneliness on her."

"Where the hell is she?" Drew bellowed once again. Now was Johns turn to hold him back.

"Bring Deek up to Tumbleweed in a couple of hours." He informed them, answering Drew's question. "And don't go getting no funny ideas, or I will slit that whore's throat myself! You boys have a pleasant afternoon. Ya!"

With that he was gone, leaving behind three very angry men.

"Go get Deek, Marshal." John ordered as soon as he was out of sight. The other man looked at him in confusion. "We're going to get Bonnie. If it's the last thing I do."


	4. Chapter 4

**Old Problems, New Love**

**Chapter 4**

"Bonnie!" John cried, cutting the rope from around her neck and helping her down gently. Most of Bill's men were lying dead around them and the Marshal and his deputies were clearing out the stragglers. "Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, John." Bonnie assured, coughing slightly and clutching her chest in pain. By the look of her, she wasn't. Her belt and shirt had been ripped open, revealing her… delicates… and her gorgeous face was covered in cuts and bruises. She leaned up to hug him tightly. From the general direction of the boys, John heard a wolf whistle. "Thank you. What took you so long, anyways, you stupid man?"

"You weren't exactly helping me, Bonnie." He laughed, receiving a light slap to the back of the head. He set her down and she scowled at him, putting her hands on her hips.

"If you think I'm going to lower myself by making a joke about being "all tied up," you've got another thing coming. Come on." She said, making her way over to John's horse. He was immediately at her side, helping her onto the beast and climbing on after her, allowing her to hold on around his waist.

"I'm gon' get her home!" John called out to Leigh, receiving a thumbs up and a nod. He drove his spurs downwards and held the reigns tightly.

It was a fairly comfortable ride, seeing how he hadn't ever been that close to her for that long. However, questions made him break the comfortable silence they had been in. He had heard her sniffle a few times and was overcome with fear. _What had they done to her?_

"Bonnie?" John asked, moving one of his hands to pat her knee in a comforting way. He heard her make a noise of approval to carry on talking. "They… they didn't…you know… did they?"

He heard her chuckle slightly and felt slightly better.

"Naw." She assured, leaning her head onto his back. "One guy tried to get funny on me one time… I wasn't so ladylike and he didn't try it again, nor no one else."

"You'll be glad to get home, huh?" John smiled, relaxing at the knowledge of her safety.

"Definitely." She laughed, wiping what was left of her tears away from her eyes and shaking her head. "I don't think I've ever wanted to be home so badly."

"Yeah, well." John sighed, taking his hat off and plopping it down on her head. "I'll have you home soon enough. Now rest."

**Three Hours Later**

The horse slowed as they approached the MacFarlane's house. John smiled and turned to face his bride-to-be.

"Okay Bonnie." He said gently, taking his hat back from her. "Home sweet home."

He hopped down and reached up, taking her by the waist and helping her to the ground. He received a confused look from his fiancé and shrugged.

"I wasn't sure if you would be able to." He explained, gesturing to her battered form. "What with all of the cuts and bruises you've got there."

"Thanks." Bonnie said softly, blushing and watching as John hitched the horse to the post. "Come in for a drink? You've earned it."

"I think I'll take you up on that offer." John laughed, wiping his forehead of sweat. He hovered beside her, making sure she didn't fall or trip, to which she swatted his arms away and scolded him thoroughly.

"I gave as good as I got, Marston." She said, wagging her finger and reaching out for the doorknob.

"Mr MacFarlane! Drew!" John called, opening the door and ushering Bonnie inside. Receiving no response, he shrugged. Bonnie just rolled her eyes and shooed him further inside, towards the kitchen.

**Two Weeks Later**

"_Chupa-feckin-rosa?!" _Irish exclaimed, running a hand over his scruffy beard and sighing. John looked at him through narrowed eyes and he quickly backtracked. "Oh, I'll take you there, John. I'm real popular down there. You just meet me at the ferry. I've got lots of friends down South."

"Yeah…" John laughed sarcastically and shook his head in disbelief. "I'll see you at the ferry, Irish!"

"Okay…" The other man said, his voice high and resigned. "I'll just get me things."

"I'm sorry about this, John." The Marshal muttered, coming to stand next to John, who was lighting up a cigarette. "I guess you'll be heading to Mexico, then?"

"You'd have guessed right." John laughed, flicking tobacco off the end of his cigarette. "I just don't know if Bonnie'll let me live long enough to _see_ Mexico."

"Ah, I understand. It must be hard for you; leaving your fiancé behind." The Marshal said sympathetically and patting John's back. "Besides, Bonnie know's why you're doing this. She'll understand."

**That Night at MacFarlane's Ranch**

"_Mexico?!" _Bonnie shrieked when he told her. Her hair was up in its usual bun and she was cooking up dinner. "You're going to Mexico?!"

"I have to, Bonnie." John sighed, running his hand over his brow in frustration. "You know I have to."

"You're going after a group of… of… bastards!" She shouted, shocking him to his very core. Never had he heard her use such language. Nor any woman. "After everything they did to the people who live here… to me… to _you_, for crying out loud!"

"Bonnie…" John groaned, running his hand through his hair. And leaning back in his chair. "You know why I have to do this…"

"It doesn't mean I have to like it!" She shrieked, slamming the bowl down on the counter. "I mean… how long are you gonna be gone for? Weeks? Months?"

"A couple of weeks at most." John replied. He stood from his chair and walked around to stand next to her. He wrapped his arms around her in a hug and kissed the top of her head. "And when I return, I want to make you Mrs. Bonnie Marston."

"Don't try that John." She warned against his chest, trying desperately to wriggle out of his grip. "Don't dare try to use the whole _'wedding'_ spiel."

"Bonnie, the whole reason I'm here in the first place is to kill Bill Williamson." John whispered, still not letting her go. "Just… take some time to think about it? Please?"

"Fine." She huffed, hitting him away successfully and swatting him with her towel. "Now, out with you! Go on!" She shooed him out of the room and rested against the counter.

"Holy hell, MacFarlane…" She muttered to herself, groaning slightly. "Why couldn't you have a normal relationship? Get married to a rancher… have a bunch of kids…"

"_No, you had to choose a goddamned outlaw!"_ She exclaimed, running her hand over her face and shaking her head madly.


End file.
